Sometimes, you have to do horrible things to make a statement. Sometimes, it is the only thing that matters. It wasn't planned, but I couldn't resist. The way she looked at me, the perfect little heartshaped mouth, the blue eyes. The hair, blond but dyed, darker roots taking shape. The accent, so musical, so light...yes. I couldn't resist.
She is far more beautiful now. The fear still on her face, even if her eyes have gone glazed, like glass balls. She is paler as well now. It stands well against the blood still fresh on her skin. No one will find her for awhile. I can tell already. This building has not been used for awhile, since the riots. The insurance started kicking up a fuss, so no workmen have been here since the building was made safe.
She looks good against the brownish black of the soot and the paper scattered around her. The blood is only a reminder of her struggle. She did not see it until it was too late. Shame. She would have looked more peaceful if she had not struggled.
I wonder how long it will take before they find her.
